


Herbal Therapy

by quoththewriter



Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoththewriter/pseuds/quoththewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day had ended with sore limbs and a nasty oil burn blistering down the length of his back. Matt wants to tough it out but Becker, surprisingly, lends a hand. Just a bit of poking fun at Matt and his love of plants, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Herbal Therapy

The day had been long and hard and all Matt wanted to do was get back to his flat for some well-deserved rest. After spending many hours corralling misplaced creatures back through the anomaly, amid the disaster zone of panicked carnival-goers, the day had ended with sore limbs and a nasty oil burn blistering down the length of his back.

He had told them not to worry, that he was fine, despite obvious indications otherwise, and stubbornly ignored any attempts to call for medical assistance. Back at the ARC, once everyone had dispersed to head home for the night, Matt sat stiffly in his lab, wincing at the slightest bit of movement that caused the fabric of his shirt to brush against the damaged skin. He shut his eyes and breathed in deep through his nose, fighting to control the pain.

“Hey.” Matt jumped, eyes shooting open and hissing a curse of pain as the movement jostled the burn. He clamped his jaw shut and went back to his attempts at stabilising his breathing, too busy fighting off the urge to scream to answer the man standing in the doorway of his lab.

Becker was over at his side in an instant, in a blur of black and green. Matt shut his eyes again as another wave of pain hit and tried to concentrate on staying conscious.

Becker was touching his arm, his voice infused with a hint of panic. “Matt! Are you all right? Matt!”

Matt drew in another breath and clenched his hands into fists at his side, steadying himself enough to look Becker in the eyes.

“Not really,” he forced out, in too much pain to consider lying.

Becker’s face twisted at the admission, his eyes going wide before growing serious.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, and Matt was still aware of the gentle touch of his fingers at the crook of his elbow.

“My back,” he hissed out between clenched teeth. “Turns out the burn is worse than I thought."

The look Becker gave him was nothing if not admonishing, but he didn’t gloat. He looked like he was thinking hard, his eyes narrowed and solemn. After a beat, Becker nodded at his shirt.

“Can you get that off?"

Matt bit back a joke about appropriate times and put the thought to some serious consideration. Carefully he moved his arms, painfully aware that every movement caused the burn on his back to sting more. Moving as gingerly as possible, he unbuttoned his shirt, wincing and sucking in needy breaths of air when the pain became too intense.

Becker stood beside him, watching with concern as he laboured in pain.

“And here I thought," he exhaled on a breathy chuckle. “You’d be taking this chance to gloat and run with it."

Becker’s brow was pinched with worry. “This is hardly a time to be cracking jokes," he cut in sensibly.

“That depends on your point of view,” Matt answered, drawing a reluctant smile from the soldier at the familiar words. “And as I recall, you didn’t seem hesitant to crack jokes when your life was on the line."

“That’s hardly the point!” Becker argued, and Matt smirked even though his back was on fire. He finished with the buttons and managed to push the fabric from one shoulder before the pain caught up to him, sharp enough to make his eyes water.

Becker didn’t miss a beat: his steady hands catching the fabric of Matt's shirt and pushing it gently from his shoulders. As the fabric fell away it caught on the wound; the burned skin had blistered and fallen away, leaving his shirt a mess of blood and pus. The dead skin came away with the cloth, despite Becker’s careful administrations and Matt clenched his jaw shut, feeling a moan slip out from between his lips.

“Sorry,” Becker winced in sympathy but continued gently tugging the fabric down and away from his skin until it was clear of the burn.

Matt was suddenly aware of Becker’s closeness, being trapped between his arms as he’d reached out to help, and felt a sudden pang of longing that made him want to reach forward and close the remaining distance between them. He swallowed roughly, feeling a very different, if more pleasing kind of burn run through him before Becker’s sudden intake of breath had him suddenly holding his own.

“Idiot,” Becker swore, breaking Matt from his daze. He looked up to find Becker craning his neck to look over his shoulder at the wound on his back. Becker shook his head in exasperation and dropped his arms. The heat of his body went with them and Matt felt himself shiver, chest bare and exposed in the cool air of his lab.

He tuned back in in time to see Becker set down a terracotta pot on the table in from of him. Spiky green leaves protruded from the pot, their serrated edges reaching stiffly upwards.

“Aloe Vera,” He noted automatically, lips quirking into a grin. “You bought me a plant?”

“It was in my office,” Becker shrugged. “It was a gift from my sister-in-law. I figured it would come in handy someday so I kept it around. It doesn’t require a lot of care. And I’m told it's good for burns."

Matt was staring, gaze bouncing between the plant on his table to the man who provided it before Becker spoke up.

“Lean over."

Matt cocked an eyebrow at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Becker looked like he was teetering on the precipice of frustration, torn between clobbering him over the head or pulling out his own hair. “You heard me," he replied. “Lie forward."

“Why?”

Becker rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, obviously trying to reign in his temper. Matt concealed a grin. He waited, still sitting up, until Becker turned on his heel and started stalking away.

His grin faltered. “Wait!”

Becker turned and Matt shifted, leaning his forearms on the lab table and resting his head on them in surrender. The message was clear. He sucked in a breath, feeling the goosebumps rise along his arms as the cool air washed over him, bringing the pain of his burn back in a blinding flash of heat.

He hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes until he heard a quiet snap and opened them to find its source. He made to turn his head but Becker’s voice from close behind made him stop.

“Don’t move." Becker’s voice was quiet and commanding and Matt held still, holding his breath. “This might sting.”

A second later something cool and wet touched the burned flesh on his bare back and Matt let out a very undignified groan of pain.

The aloe, Matt thought, with a slight thrill at the notion that Becker had known how to make the plant useful. After all, it made for a sorry decorative piece.

“You’ve obviously done your homework,” he murmured appreciatively. Becker mumbled something that sounded like assent but it was far too quiet to hear.

“What’s that?” he teased, sucking in a sharp breath when the plant touched a particularly nasty spot. “And here I thought you liked school.”

“Shut up,” Becker muttered, sounding embarrassed. Matt grinned.

“Why should I? You said it."

“I could make this very painful for you,” Becker warned.

“You wouldn’t.”

“This is coming from the man who shot me with a taser,” Becker reminded him and Matt could hear the raised eyebrow in that statement.

“Well, you asked for it.”

Matt’s breathing hitched as Becker lifted the aloe from his skin, and it left him in a whoosh when cold fingers took its place, prodding gingerly at the sore skin, just hard enough to make him groan. Just a light press from those damnably slender fingers sent the nerves on his back alight. Stubborn though he was, Matt grit his teeth and bore the punishment. Becker had made it halfway down his back when he finally gave in.

“All right, all right,” he gasped, inching away from Becker’s vengeful fingers. “You proved your point.” He resettled his head on his arms and tried to ignore the pinpricks of heat searing along his spine. “And to think I saved your life once.”

The aloe leaf was once again pressed to his skin, starting once more from the top and moving downwards as Becker methodically went over all the spots he'd tested. It swathed a sticky path across his skin, tracing the patterns of the burn marks where the oil had hit him.

“And I’m grateful for it,” Becker told him, solemn again.

Matt nodded lazily and stared at the far wall. “Yeah, yeah, anytime."

The contrast of heat from Becker’s hands against the soothing cool of the aloe’s juice felt like heaven against his flushed skin, burned raw and bleeding from the incident earlier and Matt felt heavy-lidded drowsiness settle on him as the administrations continued.

They continued in silence, Becker working, slow and confident, and Matt lost in the void between absolute bliss and absolute agony.

After the first noise of protest, Matt gnashed his teeth against the pain, breathing out loudly through his nose; but the soothing balm of the plant on his skin soon felt so damn good that he had to clench his jaw shut to keep from moaning out loud.

“I’m sorry,” Becker apologised, mistaking the sound for one of pain. He removed the leaf from his skin and stood up. “It’s meant to help."

“It has,” Matt answered with a grin, feeling the sticky plant juices seep into the open skin on his back. He turned his head enough to glance at Becker from the corner of his eye and smiled fondly. “I feel better already."

Becker smiled back, brown eyes warm. “Good.” He tossed the broken aloe leaf into the trash and turned back to Matt with an admonishing eye. “And next time, don’t be such a bloody idiot."

Suddenly Becker was right beside him, a sap-covered hand curled under his chin, lips over his and Matt had little time to process what had even happened before he was pulling back. Determined to keep him near, Matt reached out and caught the collar of his shirt, drawing him back.

He kissed Becker again, savouring the taste of him and the slight brush of stubble against his lips. He broke the kiss and grinned at the slightly dazed look in the soldier’s eyes.

“Been wanting to do that," he told Becker. “Since the first time I met you.”

Becker laughed, and the sound warmed him. “Don’t get used to it.”

Matt raised his brow. “No chance of a repeat performance, then?”

Becker fought back a smile. “We’ll see.”

“And maybe I could persuade you to have coffee at my place?”

Becker grinned and shook his head. “Don’t push your luck. Besides,” his lips curved upwards. “I hate coffee.”

“Tea, then." Matt persisted, before a thought hit him. Emily. “You pick the place.”

Becker raised an eyebrow at him but for once his expression seemed more curious than bemused. After a moment of consideration, to which Matt threw in a charming smile, he winked though it was more like a challenge. “We’ll see.”

Matt nodded, accepting the challenge. He could work with that.


End file.
